


show me where we're going

by clayisforgirls



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post Game fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-02
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-30 20:31:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6439417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clayisforgirls/pseuds/clayisforgirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows that Patrick’s going to be there when he needs someone to tell him he’s being an idiot, and Patrick knows that Jonny’s always going to support him no matter what.</p><p>It’s just who they are. It’s who they’ve always been.</p><p> </p><p>Takes place after the win in Winnipeg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	show me where we're going

It hadn’t surprised Jonny that Patrick had insisted in driving him home.

He’d been checked out for a concussion – with his history he’d be stupid _not_ to be checked out – but Patrick worries about him more than most people. He feels the same way about Patrick though, so he hadn’t put up a fight when he’d been nudged in the direction of the Hummer.

Jonny had closed his eyes as soon as he’d slumped in the passenger seat, but Patrick had just prodded him in the ribs until he was fully awake. And really fucking annoyed, but it fades a little when he sees the worry lines on Patrick’s face, looking so much older than he should.

“You can’t sleep,” Patrick says. Jonny’s about to protest that he’d slept on the flight – mostly on Patrick’s shoulder, and he’s _fine_ – but he doesn’t want to argue with Patrick over his brain. Not when he’s hidden so many symptoms in the past.

“I won’t, Kaner,” he says, but he can feel his eyes slipping closed again, because it’s really fucking late – or early depending how you look at it – and he just wants his bed.

It’s how they end up playing a bastardized version of Truth or Dare, except all of the options are truth, and all of the questions are for Jonny.

“Don’t I get a turn?” he asks after he’d told Patrick that his favorite kind of food was sushi, which Patrick already _knows_ , and he watches Patrick shake his head.

“This is to keep you awake, dumbass,” he says, but it’s completely fond, no heat behind the words. “Disney World or Disneyland?”

“I’ve never been to either,” Jonny admits, and watching Patrick’s face distort into fake horror is _hilarious_ , and he laughs maybe more than he should.

“Next time we have a free day in Anaheim.” It sounds like a promise, and knowing Patrick it probably is. They don’t spend a lot of time together outside of hockey anymore, not like they once did, but Patrick’s never going to be anything other than his best friend on the team.

Best friend doesn’t really encompass everything that Patrick is to him though; partner would be more appropriate, the person he turns to before anyone else. He knows that Patrick’s going to be there when he needs someone to tell him he’s being an idiot, and Patrick knows that Jonny’s always going to support him no matter what.

It’s just who they are. It’s who they’ve always been.

He misses Patrick’s next question because he’s lost in his head, and it takes a hand on his shoulder to blink him back to reality.

“Get out of your head, Taze,” Patrick says softly, eyes still on the road because Patrick’s always been a more cautious driver than he ever will be. “Captain America or Wolverine?”

“Like I need to justify that with a response,” Jonny replies, because like fuck he’d ever pick a goody-two-shoes American hero when he can pick Wolverine, and it’s Patrick who laughs this time. But it reminds him that he’s been meaning to ask Patrick something for a while. “Did you see Deadpool yet?”

“Haven’t had time,” Patrick says, which is totally fair. Jonny hasn’t had time either.

“Maybe this week then,” Jonny says around a yawn, his eyes drifting shut momentarily until he remembers he needs to stay awake. Patrick doesn’t reply, just makes a non-committal sound, and shifts in his seat a little.

The questions that follow could have been part of any Blackhawks interview he's done in the last eight years; favorite place to eat in Chicago, the city he loves playing in the most that isn't Chicago or Winnipeg, the best Christmas present he ever received from his parents. Nothing that's going to make him tell Patrick anything but the truth, because there's no reason to lie.

Which is why he's not expecting it when Patrick asks, “Have you ever kissed a guy?”

It's an odd question because hockey definitely had a _don't ask, don't tell_ policy when it comes to sexuality, and Jonny’s never even wanted to tell anyone he's bi. He's straight to everyone except for himself, because he's never wanted to be in the starring role on Deadspin.

But Patrick’s never spilled his secrets before, not even when he's drunk and goes through three topics in under a minute, and Jonny trusts him more than anyone else in the world.

“Once,” Jonny says after a pause, and Patrick raises an eyebrow, indicating that he’s going to ask for more if Jonny doesn’t tell him. “In college. I was pretty drunk.”

“Like that’s a shock,” Patrick chirps, but there’s a look that Jonny doesn’t recognize on his face, and it’s unnerving. Maybe he was wrong about Patrick, because he's found religion this year in a way that Jonny never has, and maybe he's wondering if he should start sleeping with his connecting door closed. “Was it Oshie?”

“No,” Jonny says, as firmly as he can, because he has _standards_ , and he might have sat in TJ’s lap in college but he definitely wouldn’t ever make out with him. He knows where his dick was before Lauren, and it’s not pretty.

Then again, TJ would probably say the same about him.

It's obvious that Patrick wants to know more but doesn't know how to ask, can tell from the way he's started fidgeting, running his tongue over his lower lip over and over before pulling it between his teeth. It's verging on obscene, and Jonny thought he'd filed away Patrick Kane’s tongue under things he isn't allowed to fantasize about, but apparently Patrick’s unlocked that box tonight.

Instead of thinking about it, he tells Patrick about the guy at the party; it had been before he'd been drafted but he'd still been scared that someone was going to photograph them, and the guy had taken him outside and they'd kissed in the shadows of the bushes. The only life altering thing about it was that Jonny had figured out he was definitely bi, and he wishes he could remember the guy’s name.

Patrick doesn't say anything, but somehow he times it perfectly so they pull into Jonny’s driveway as soon as he finishes his story.

“Why d’you ask?” Jonny says as Patrick turns the engine off, plunging them into near darkness. He's not sure if it was better when he could see Patrick’s expression or not. At least this way he doesn't have to see the disappointment he's bound to hear in his voice.

“There’s, um, I think there's this guy that keeps looking at me like he wants to kiss me. And, and I kind of want to kiss him too. But maybe we're just friends, and I'm misreading it.”

Jonny can hear that Patrick’s nervous, and he doesn't blame him. He didn't expect his rainbow flag-flying revelation to lead to Patrick having his own.

“Pretty sure that Breadman’s not gay,” he says, because Patrick could only be talking about Panarin. No one else on the team shows Patrick such unguarded emotions, the looks that border on hero worship but could just as easily be mistaken for lust.

“You're an idiot,” Patrick says softly, hint of laughter in his voice, and then Patrick’s unbuckling his seatbelt, and there's a soft brush of lips against his cheek. “I meant _you_.”

It's easy to turn his head and meet Patrick’s mouth with his own. His lips are chapped, which doesn't surprise Jonny in the slightest because he's always running his fucking tongue over them, but now it's Jonny’s turn, pressing his own tongue against Patrick’s lips until he gets with the program. It doesn't surprise him that it doesn't take long at all for Patrick to catch on, opening his mouth beneath Jonny’s, and it feels as familiar to him as passing the puck between them is. There's none of the awkwardness that usually comes with kissing someone for the first time, no bumping noses or clashing teeth; they're as in sync here as they are on the ice.

It should be weird but it’s _not_ , and that's the weirdest part of all.

Patrick tastes like the stale coffee they serve on the plane and sugar, which is gross because Jonny won't touch that coffee with a ten foot pole, even at ass o’clock in the morning. It doesn't stop him wanting to keep tasting Patrick though and he licks into his mouth, a moan escaping the blonde as Jonny fists a hand in his shirt and pulls him closer.

He knows Patrick only tastes like the awful coffee because he'd wanted to stay awake to keep an eye on Jonny, because Patrick can't sleep if he has caffeine after six, and it makes him feel warm all over. If he asked, he knows all of his teammates would do the same for him, but he never has to ask Patrick.

Patrick’s thumb is running over the spot on his left ear where the right is stitched, his fingers threaded in his short hair. He hums in approval, because Patrick’s always known how to push his buttons in the best ways, and he feels Patrick smile against his lips.

“Text me when you wake up, okay?” Patrick murmurs, pressing a kiss to the still healing scar on his lip that he caused. Jonny blinks, because he'd kind of assumed that Patrick was going to follow him inside. It wouldn't be anything new; his guest room’s been collecting Patrick’s shit for eight years, and somehow it all manages to come with him every time he moves.

“You're not coming in?” he replies, and he feels rather than sees Patrick shake his head.

“Not tonight.”

The uncertainty in Patrick’s voice concerns him, because now he knows what Patrick tastes like he's not sure he could lock his feelings back up. Although apparently he hadn't been doing as good a job with that as he thought he had.

“You need to rest, Jon. I'm not going to do anything with you tonight that could fuck your head up.”

Like always, Patrick somehow knows exactly what Jonny needs to hear, and annoyingly he’s probably right, because he feels fine right now but he did the last time too. They're too close to the playoffs to risk anything, and this way there's no temptation to do anything. Jonny’s pretty sure that neither of them would get any sleep if Patrick slept here tonight. He'd be okay with kissing Patrick until the sun rose, but they have skate tomorrow and a game the next day, and they both need their rest right now.

It's easy to agree with Patrick with a nod, and he slips out of the car to grab his bags. He knocks on the driver’s side window when he has them, and Patrick rolls it down. From out here Jonny can see the soft smile that he's wearing, and he leans in to kiss it gently.

“Night, Kaner,” he says once they break apart, the same smile probably gracing his own lips. Patrick doesn't reply with words, just nods and kisses him softly, and Jonny heads towards his front door before he can ask Patrick to stay anyway.

He gives Patrick a tiny wave when he's unlocked his front door, and watches Patrick pull out of his driveway, heading downtown.

It doesn't take long for him to settle into bed, his eyes drifting shut almost as soon as his head hits the pillow. He has too many nights a year like this to think anything different would happen, even with the throb of his right ear.

But for the first time since rookie year he allows himself to think of Patrick, and he falls asleep with a smile on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from "Take My Hand" by Dido.


End file.
